


Hush

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: Emma just needs a break, figuratively and metaphorically. Hook may be the one to give it to her.





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a little something for the CS Storybook, Volume 2. I opted for a missing scene that falls at the end of Dark Hollow (3x07) and before the events of Think Lovely Thoughts (3x08) picks up.

**** It’s another day down, and another night with Henry out there, alone. It’s enough to make Emma want to steal Neal’s lighter and burn the island down. Take her –  _ take Neal’s _ \- cutlass and hack a path to Henry. Instead she distracts herself by poking at the fire in front of her, watching the embers spark and pop as she disturbs them with the stick she pulled from the brush earlier.

From the corner of her eye she can see Mary Margaret roll out her bedding next to David’s. They still don’t seem to be talking, exactly, but there's a thaw between them. They have once again slid back into that practiced ease of theirs, moving around and with one another seamlessly. It both warms her heart and makes her burn with jealousy. Leaves her with a whole host of what ifs that she tamps down brutally before they can take up residence in her chest, where she is already too full of wants and worries for Henry.

Emma wishes she could say the same of her and Neal. He’s been quiet since they returned from the hollow and set up the night’s camp, curling up on his own bedroll, his back to the fire – and all of them. She doesn’t know whether to huff a sigh and roll her eyes, or hit him in the chest and tell him to get it together. Petulance isn’t what she needs from anyone at this point. She’s feeling enough of it herself.

She meant what she said back in Echo Cave. It would be easier to put everything with him behind her. She doesn’t want face all of it again, doesn’t want to think about the way every part of her cracks when she sees his face. How the ache forms in her chest and begins to gnaw once more, a steady reminder that she has never been enough for someone stay.

But if Neal being here, being back, means there’s a chance Henry doesn’t have to grow up without him, she would face that age-old ache and then some. Because she’ll be damned if Henry ever has to spend one moment more wondering if he matters, to her or anyone else.

Then there’s Hook.

She stabs at the fire again, sliding the stick deep into the embers, shifting them around even when she knows she should leave them be. He shifts behind her as she does, ducking beneath some branches at the edge of the clearing. She wars with herself about whether she should ask, and the words slip from her mouth before she’s realized she’s made up her mind. 

“Where are you going?” 

She keeps herself from turning as she asks, though, not wanting to see the hint of a smirk on his face or the teasing lift of his eyebrow. She can hear him pause, the swish of his overlong coat fading, and she wonders if he’s turned back towards her or if he, too, refuses to look.

“There’s a river nearby, thought I would get us some fresh water.”

She turns at that point and finds him with the straps of a few canteens wrapped around his hand. Before he can move further, she stands, brushing dirt from her pants.

He waves her off. “You don’t have to. I’ll be back in a tic.”

Not answering, she grabs the cutlass from the top her own bedroll and moves past him. “Let’s go,” she grunts, hacking at the brush in front of her despite the fact they had cleared it away on their way in.

They aren’t more than a few steps from the clearing when his hand wraps around her wrist, stilling her before she can raise her arm for another useless swipe. She glares back at him but doesn’t shrug him off.

“How about we try for a quieter approach?” he asks, one finger rubbing at the side of her wrist. “Not attract any Lost Boys unnecessarily?”

His thumb at her pulse point makes her want to lean back, to sink against him, but she catches herself before she follows that instinct. Slowly rolling her shoulder, she steps forward. Hook drops her hand and steps past her with a nod, taking the path that forks to the right. He doesn’t look to see if she’s followed and she wants to roll her eyes at that, but falls into line behind him instead.

They are quiet as they walk, allowing the sounds of the crickets and cicadas to settle around them. At least she imagines them to be crickets and cicadas. She doesn’t want to ask and risk finding out that even the bugs on this island are the stuff of childhood nightmares. It isn’t long before the trickle of water joins the chirping, and after another bend, the overgrown path dead ends into small river.

Hook drops the canteens to the ground along the bank and shrugs off his coat. She stands at the edge of the water. The quiet that surrounds them is almost soothing. If she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend they are back in Storybrooke. Home and safe, or whatever counts for that there.

“Take off your shoes, love.”

“Huh?”

Emma turns back to find he has shed his vest as well, leaving him in his thin, billowy shirt. His boots are discarded and he’s rolled up the ends of his pants, exposing his ankles and shins. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen this much of his skin and she’s sure she’s staring with her mouth hanging open.

If she is though, he ignores it and nods to the water as he takes a step forward. “The water runs warm. When nights go cold like this one, it’s a good respite.”

“You came out here to play in the water?”

“There’s nothing more we can do for Henry tonight, and we are no good to your boy if we haven’t rested. This...” He reaches his arm out and gestures for her to join him. “This allows me to relax. Come, try it.” 

She narrows her eyes and drops a hand to her hip. 

“Swan.”

The way her drawls her name sends a shiver through her that she tries hard to ignore. Rather than answer, she rolls her eyes, but lifts a leg so she can remove her boot. She does the same with her other foot and then leans down to roll up her pants. Hook is smiling by the time she is done and encourages her out into the water. 

He’s right, not that she wants to tell him that, and for a brief moment she wishes the water was deep enough to dunk herself in. Then she shakes away the thought. She doesn’t want to think about the last time she’s had a shower, or have a reminder of just how long it has been since Henry was home and safe. 

After a few minutes, Hook moves back to the river bank, settling down on the soft grass there, stretching out to leave his feet at the water’s edge. She watches him, drawn to the way the bones of his ankle stand out, the lines and sinews of them tempting. The hair of his legs stops just above the knob of bone, and her fingers itch to follow the swirls of it in the same way he held her wrist earlier.

She stops herself though, sitting down next to him and purposely leaving a decent gap of space between them. Her fingers tangle through the grass beneath them, and she tugs a bit but not enough to pull it up. Keeping her attention at her hand, she quietly asks, “Can you tell me again?”

“What’s that?”

“That we’ll find Henry? That we’ll keep him safe?”

She slaps her toes against the surface of the water, enjoying the small beads that land on the tops of her feet and how their warmth seeps into her skin. Hook extends a foot towards hers, poking at her ankle with his big toe until she finally relents and looks at him.

“You’ll get your boy back, love, of that I’ve never been more sure.”

He then turns towards her, stretching one foot over his extended leg, planting it on the ground and creating a bridge with his leg as he lies down on his side. He props his head in his hand, his hook lying between them. 

She shifts to face him and gives him a small smile. “We should go back,” she says, closing her eyes. 

“Hush,” he whispers. “We’ve time, just rest.”


End file.
